解救八戒 Bajie Cut Loose
卻說那三人穿林入裡，只見那獃子繃在樹上，聲聲叫喊，痛苦難禁。行者上前笑道：「好女婿呀，這早晚還不起來謝親，又不到師父處報喜，還在這裡賣解兒耍子哩。咄！你娘呢？你老婆呢？好個繃巴吊拷的女婿呀。」那獃子見他來搶白著羞，咬著牙，忍著疼，不敢叫喊。沙僧見了，老大不忍，放下行李，上前解了繩索救下。獃子對他們只是磕頭禮拜，其實羞恥難當。有《西江月》為證：却说那三人穿林入里，只见那呆子绷在树上，声声叫喊，痛苦难禁。行者上前笑道：「好女婿呀，这早晚还不起来谢亲，又不到师父处报喜，还在这里卖解儿耍子哩。咄！你娘呢？你老婆呢？好个绷巴吊拷的女婿呀。」那呆子见他来抢白著羞，咬著牙，忍著疼，不敢叫喊。沙僧见了，老大不忍，放下行李，上前解了绳索救下。呆子对他们只是磕头礼拜，其实羞耻难当。有《西江月》为证：
逐句解 Line by line
Now those three pushed on into the wood, and there they found the blockhead lashed fast to a tree, howling with every breath, his pain past all bearing.
The scene resumes directly from the close of ch.23: Bājiè, punished for his lechery by the four bodhisattvas’ illusion of a widow and her daughters, hangs trussed to a tree. 繃 (bēng) here is the taut-binding sense — to lash tight, draw taut (not the stern-face běng).
Pilgrim stepped up and said with a laugh, “A fine son-in-law you make! This late in the day, and still not risen to thank the bride’s people, nor gone to bring Master the glad news — still hanging here putting on your show and playing the fool.
行者 (xíngzhě) keeps 行 (xíng); 還 (hái) twice = ‘still.’ 賣解兒 (màixièr) = to perform tricks / do acrobatics for a crowd; 解 (xiè) the street-performer’s sense (distinct from 解 (jiě) ‘untie’ in seg 7 below).
Bah!
咄 (duō) — a sharp exclamation of scorn.
And where is your good matron now?
娘 here is the widow of the ch.23 trial, who had posed as the marriage-broking mother-in-law; Pilgrim taunts Bājiè with the phantom household.
Where is your wife now?
The ‘wife’ is the phantom bride Bājiè was tricked into courting during the Four Saints’ test.
A choice bridegroom indeed — bound, strung up, and racked!
繃巴吊拷 (bēng-bā-diào-kǎo) strings together the stages of a trussing-torture: bound tight, then hung, then flogged. 女婿 (nǚxù) = son-in-law / bridegroom.
The blockhead, seeing him come to jeer, was seized with shame; he ground his teeth and swallowed the pain, not daring to cry out.
Three 著 in a row split by sense: 著羞 (zháo) ‘to take on shame / grow bashful’ (the zháo of 著惱／著急), against the durative 咬著牙 (zhe) and 忍著疼 (zhe).
Sha Monk, at the sight, could bear it no longer; he set down the baggage, stepped up, cut the ropes, and brought him down.
行李 (xínglǐ) = the pilgrims’ baggage. Both 了 (le) here mark completed action, not liǎo.
The blockhead could only kowtow and bow to them, so unbearable was his disgrace.
難當 (nán-dāng) = hard to withstand; 當 (dāng) in the ‘bear / endure’ sense.
There is a lyric to the tune “The Moon over the West River” in witness:
《西江月》 (Xī Jiāng Yuè) is a two-stanza 詞 tune; 為證 (wéi zhèng) (‘as proof’) is the standard citation formula, its 為 always wéi.
Lust is a sword that wounds the flesh; covet it, and calamity is sure to strike.
The lyric moralizes on 色 (desire), the very snare Bājiè fell into. The blade image sets the tone of the whole stanza.
A fair one of twice-eight years, in comely paint and gown —
二八 (èr-bā) = sixteen (two eights), the conventional age of a beauty.
yet fiercer by far than any yakṣa fiend.
夜叉 (yèchā) renders Sanskrit yakṣa, a fierce flesh-eating demon; the beauty is deadlier still.
You hold but one true stock of capital, with not a mite of profit to swell your purse.
The internal-alchemy conceit: the body’s 元陽 (primal yang) is one’s sole 原本 / capital, not to be spent on gain. 囊 (náng) = purse.
Best, then, to guard that fund and keep it close in store,
好將資本 (hǎo jiāng zīběn): 將 (jiāng) marks disposal (‘take and…’); 收藏 (shōucáng) with 藏 (cáng) ‘to store away.’
hold fast to it, and let it not run loose in wanton waste.
休教 (xiū jiào) = ‘do not let’ (the causative 教 (jiào)); 放蕩 (fàngdàng) = dissolute, unbridled.
This passage seals the Four Saints Test the Meditative Mind (四聖試禪心) that occupied ch.23. The bodhisattvas Lí Shān Lǎomǔ, Guānyīn, Wénshū and Pǔxián had conjured a rich widow and three daughters to test the pilgrims’ resolve; only Bājiè failed, and is left bound to a tree by the ‘back-gate’ trick he thought would win him a bride. The comedy of his exposure — Pilgrim’s relentless mockery, Sha Monk’s quiet mercy — is the release of tension after the trial.
The citational 《西江月》 turns the joke to doctrine. Its warning against 色 (sensual desire) is cast in the novel’s recurring commercial-alchemical metaphor: the adept’s vital essence is a single, non-renewable 原本 or 資本 — capital to be hoarded (收藏), never squandered for petty ‘profit.’ The lyric thus reads the marriage-farce as an allegory of guarding the primal yang against dissipation.
Note the graphic verb 繃 and the trussing-torture compound 繃巴吊拷, which fix the physical indignity, and the ledger of three 著 (zháo / zhe / zhe) that the ruby must keep distinct. The tune-name is given in full; the two stanzas are set as their own metrical units.